Desperado
by foreverafangirl93
Summary: Sam and Dean don't end up finding that reaper in season 1. Instead, Sam takes drastic measures to save his brother. #1 in my What If AU series.


AN: Hi all, i'm back! kinda lol Storm Before the Calm will be updated as soon as my muse for said story gets back from vacation. In the meantime, I hope y'all enjoy this short one-shot in my new Verse series i'm starting.

Desperado

" _The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart…it's damaged."_

 _"How damaged?"_

 _"We've done all we can. We can try to keep him comfortable…"_

 _Episode 1.12, "Faith"_

* * *

Sam Winchester has never been good at waiting. Waiting as a young child in a shitty motel-of-the-week with an anxious heart and mind for his brother and father to get back from a hunt, never knowing until he physically laid eyes on him that they were alright. Waiting for his father to let _him_ control a little bit of his life, not everything because Sam's not an idiot, but just… _something_. Waiting for his letter from Stanford to arrive. Waiting at the bus stop when his father threw him out. Waiting exactly the standard three-day protocol to call Jess after their first date. Waiting for the right moment to propose to Jess. Turns out, there's never a right moment. Waiting to find the thing that killed Jess and Mom and end all of this… for good.

He sits by his deathly-ill brother's bed, watching as Dean's chest rises and falls. Earlier that day, it stopped. With the help of the doctors and machines, they got it back going again.

 _"This isn't a solution to your brother's health. It merely prolongs the inevitable-"_

Sam lets out a choked sob, letting his head fall down. He's not ready to lose him. He's not. He's never been ready. Even after the disastrous fallout between him and his father, he never really, truly _lost_ Dean. They talked occasionally on the phone, which, admittedly, had gone from a month without talking to nearly six. But that was different because Sam knew he wasn't dead. He knew he was out there.

"What am I going to do?" Sam mutters, lifting his teary eyes back up to stare at his brother. It's a long time before he speaks again. "You know, you're a selfish bastard, right?" He glares at Dean's unconscious form, "You never prepared me for this." He swallows against the rising emotion building up, "Oh, this? It's _nothing_ , Sammy. Just a slight bullet hole in my leg. It'll be fine, you'll see. Sam, I'm fine, the poison got sucked out, it's okay. I'm okay. You know what? It's not okay, Dean!" Sam exclaims, his voice breaking and his hands shaking as he stands up, "none of this is fucking okay. It's _not_." His whole body shakes, but he bites his lip to keep from completely losing it. "We were just starting to be brothers again…"

Before he can get too swept up in his grief again, he stands up from the chair with his mind made up.

"You know what? No. Fuck this."

* * *

Sam's 22 years old when he makes a deal with a demon to save his brother's life. He's scared and he's hopeless and after he locks lips with the demon, he finally feels like he's done something _right_ in his life.

He speeds back to the hospital, breaking even Dean's records in regards to the speed limit.

 _Never trust a demon_ , their father used to say to them both, before and after a hunt. Hell, even before bed. It was ingrained in them before they even hit puberty for good reasons. Sam didn't quite understand it until after Jessica died at the hands of the same demon that killed his mother.

So, needless to say, it's beyond stupid when Sam finally makes it to the hospital and see's his brother sitting up in bed, _alive_ , and he is suddenly grateful that demons exist.

"Sammy, where the hell you been?" Dean's voice is hoarse, but it's the best thing Sam's heard in God knows how long. He swallows back the tears, grinning ridiculously wide at his brother from the doorway of the hospital room.

Sam finally feels like he can breathe again.

* * *

Dean latches onto his sudden healing with a sudden surge of vengeance that Sam doesn't have in him anymore. It's weird, but ever since he made the deal with the demon for his soul, he's felt…at peace. Finally, _finally_ , he knows how his story will end. After what happened to his mother and Jessica… because of him, it's only fair that he, too, feel the flames.

"Dude, really?" Sam enters the motel room, shuts it with his foot, as he balances the drinks in his right hand and the bag of Taco Bell in the left.

Dean doesn't even bother looking up from his perch at the table, where he has his medical case file spread out. Still.

"That kind of damage doesn't just heal overnight," Dean says, for what seems like the millionth time. Sam just wishes he would stop, already, but knows it won't happen. Dean may call Sam out on being a Geek a lot of the time, but once Dean gets a particular motivator, he too can Geek out on a case.

Sam hates that it's this particular case that Dean is Geeking out over.

The youngest Winchester sets the bag of food directly on top of what Dean's looking at. Dean looks up, scowling.

"Eat," Sam says, trying to ignore the rock in the pit of his stomach, "we'll….talk after, alright?"

Dean looks at him, really, truly looks at him for the first time since he's woken up. He pushes back from the chair and Sam knows shit's about to hit the fan.

 _He knows he knows he knows_ Sam's mind screams at him, but he forces himself to remain calm as he sits on his bed, toeing off his boots.

"Sam," Dean calls, right as Sam lays down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sam ignores him, knowing that once he tells him, there's no going back. "Sammy," Dean says, softer, "Look at me."

Sam closes his eyes shut, breathing in deeply before opening them. He sits up, looking at Dean with honesty for the first time in three days.

Then, suddenly, Dean's hauling his ass off the bed and slamming him against the motel room wall.

"I knew it! I just…I _knew it!_ You did something, didn't you?" Dean shouts, emphasizing his anger by pushing him against the wall further. Sam grunts, but Dean ignores it. "So, come on, 'fess up. What did you do to save me, huh?" Dean's voice is rough as he slams Sam against the wall, holding onto his shirt. Sam doesn't even have time to speak before his older brother adds, a little more desperately, "God damn it _, what did you do_?" Sam looks up at Dean to find, to his astonishment, that his anti-chick-flick, badass of an older brother has _tears_ in his eyes.

And Sam knows he has tears in his own as he responds, "I had to, Dean. I had to. You were…." He chokes up, but pushes on through, "it was fucking bad, dude. They…they said you wouldn't wake up! That that was it and I couldn't… Dad's not here…you…you're all I've got," Sam rushes it all out, trying to explain himself. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself, "I did what I had to do."

"What did you do?" Dean asks again, softer this time. His fists unclench from Sam's t-shirt but doesn't let go completely.

"I made a deal." Sam finally admits, saying it aloud for the first time.

"You made a-," Dean says, confused, "With what? _For_ what?"

"I made a deal with a demon," Sam says calmly, "for my soul."


End file.
